


Mauve

by bleep0bleep



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, BDSM, Bottom Derek Hale, Clothed Sex, Clothed Unclothed, Coming Untouched, Dom Stiles, Getting Together, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Pining, Praise Kink, Reunions, Sex Club, Spanking, Sub Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-04-05
Packaged: 2018-05-31 09:34:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6465175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleep0bleep/pseuds/bleep0bleep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s been ten years since he’s seen Derek Hale, but Stiles would recognize that ass anywhere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mauve

**Author's Note:**

  * For [secondstar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/secondstar/gifts), [Emela](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emela/gifts), [Sexonfire24](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sexonfire24/gifts).



> This is a very belated birthday present to three absolutely wonderful people, [attoliancrown](http://attoliancrown.tumblr.com), [hoechlinslapsdylansbutt](http://hoechlinslapsdylansbutt.tumblr.com), and [pale-silver-comb](http://pale-silver-comb.tumblr.com). I hope you enjoy this! 
> 
> Much thank you to lovelies who read through and their suggestions that helped make this better:  
> [mikkimouse](http://mad-madam-m.tumblr.com), [sourwolfandsarcasm](http://sourwolfandsarcasm.tumblr.com),[ljummen](http://ljummen.tumblr.com), and [deleted-scenes](http://deleted-scenes.tumblr.com.com).

Stiles leans back against the bar, sipping on his ginger ale, surveying the scene tonight. He nods at a few familiar faces, gets a few suggestive once-overs. In the exhibition area there’s a lovely brunette girl currently up on the crux being teased with a toy by her Domme, with a cluster of people already eagerly watching. There are a few other pairs and groups of people in the public play area, and plenty of people casually socializing on the sidelines, eyes constantly watching the rest of the crowd with interest.

It’s Friday night at _Seven of Hearts_ , one of Stiles’ favorite dungeons in San Francisco. It’s been a busy few months at work; he’s just been promoted to detective, something he’s been working towards forever, but the workload on the force has just doubled since then. He hasn’t had a chance to relax at all; this is the first night in a long while he’s had the opportunity to both get home early and have the weekend off, so he’s looking forward to maybe meeting someone tonight he can do some scenes with.

Stiles sees Ricky from across the room and gets a friendly wave; he raises his glass in response. Ricky’s standing with an attractive man, the two of them giving each other affectionate glances. Stiles can’t remember what the other Dom’s name is, but he’s seen him around before. Handy with a whip and a good man. He’s glad Ricky found someone who could be both Dom and boyfriend. It looks like the two of them are happy, heading off for a private room together.

Ricky was a great sub, but when they were together he wanted more than Stiles could give, and the dating thing didn’t really work out that well. They’d been good together, in bed at least.

Stiles was always either too busy with work or the… extra things he’d be doing on the force, taking care of handling any supernatural police business that came his way. It’d started a few years ago after Scott graduated college, this network of those in the know working in various bureaucracies to help ensure the safety of the public and also any supernatural involved.

The pack’s since then spread out a bit from Beacon Hills, after they all took their time dealing with the Nemeton and the various creatures drawn to it. Finally Stiles and a few of their new allies found the right spell to lull the Nemeton back to dormancy and then he was able to leave Beacon Hills to finish college. Stiles had stuck close by ever since, working in the SFPD, and is still Scott’s second, but he’s also really confident in the new people in their pack under Scott right now, comfortable enough where he doesn’t have to check in with them all the time. They’ve got it handled.

It’s been good. College, then work… a girlfriend, a boyfriend here and there. Getting into the BDSM scene and figuring out what he really liked was eye-opening, and being able to express himself through dominance and submission was incredibly fulfilling. But having both a demanding work schedule, supernatural and otherwise, leaves Stiles with limited opportunities for dating, let alone finding someone compatible with the lifestyle. But he doesn’t have many complaints; he’s got a great pack, a challenging job, an apartment in the Bay area, and whenever he gets down to _Seven of Hearts_ it doesn’t take him long to find someone to spend the night with.

Yes, there is an ache inside him, something that longs for someone to come home to, but Stiles is used to it.

Stiles finishes his soda as well as his survey of the room. Of the familiar faces he’s seen and people he’s played with before, they seem to have already chosen their partner or partners for the night, and he doesn’t really have an interest in anyone else so far.

“Well, well, well, I thought you’d forgotten all about us,” a voice says next to him.

Stiles turns around and laughs. “Candice! Never. I could never forget you or the lovely people at your club.”

In his time at the club, Stiles has gotten to know its effervescent owner pretty well. She huffs at him now, flicking her brown curls over her shoulder, but the offended pretense only lasts a second before her face breaks into a warm smile. “It’s good to see you,” she says.

They chat for a bit about some of the club’s newer features, and Stiles gladly follows Candice on a tour of a new playroom, admiring its suspension features and stroking the cold steel of a carabiner hanging from the ceiling. It’s not really his thing, but he can appreciate the skill involved for those who take the time and effort to learn the safety procedures for this type of scene.

There’s a series of quick knocks on the door, and they pause their discussion on rope brands.

“Come in,” Candice says.

An anxious-looking woman wearing the staff uniform rushes over, wringing her hands nervously.

“Excuse me.” Candice nods to Stiles.

“Of course.” Stiles steps aside to give them some privacy, over to where a number of coiled ropes are neatly arranged on the other wall. He runs his hands over them, looking at the varied static and dynamic ones available.

The women talk in quick, hushed tones, and Candice keeps having to soothe her employee, placing her hands on her shoulders and talking to her in a calm voice. “It’s not your fault,” she says. “Thank you for letting me know. Go on, why don’t you take the rest of the night off. I’ll take care of it, don’t worry.”

Candice pats her gently and waves her towards the door, and the woman nods gratefully and leaves.

“Everything okay?” Stiles asks.

Candice sighs. “Not really. You know our monthly matchmaking event, right?” She blinks in realization. “Oh of course, I’ve vetted you for it in the past.”

“It’s fine, it’s been awhile since I’ve indulged,” Stiles says, nodding. He has done _Seven of Hearts’_ matchmaking program a few times last year. It takes a bit of preparation and an intensive bit of paperwork to go through, but Candice’s efforts pay off in matching Doms and subs in private rooms to meet and do a scene together. Part of the thrill is not knowing who exactly will join you in your room, but knowing they’ve all gone through Candice’s interview process and are compatible with your kinks is a definite draw. “What’s going on? Your background check was harder than the one for my job, and you know what line of work I’m in. I can’t believe someone would break any of the rules here.”

“No, no, nothing like that.” Candice takes a deep breath. “I had an even number of participants today, but Sarah just told me that one of the Doms arrived on time, but left before meeting his match. Family emergency, had to leave right away. He’s very apologetic, and I understand, but now I’m one Dom short.”

“Well, as you noticed, I’m rather available this evening,” Stiles suggests. “If you think we’d be a suitable match. You know all of my preferences.”

Candice nods, eyes lighting up. “And you’ve already gone through the application process, and I’ve already given you the green light for this program,” she says. “Plus, I think you’d be great for this guy.” She blinks, murmuring to herself and counting on her fingers. “I think both your preferences line up really well, actually. If you’d step up I’d really appreciate it, Stiles.”

Stiles nods. “Of course. I’m happy to help.”

Candice’s eyes light up and she gestures him forward, and they leave the room. He follows her down the hallway towards the private rooms, Candice’s heels clacking confidently on the floor. The sound of conversation from the main rooms fall to a hush, and then it’s nothing but polished black lacquered wood paneled walls and smooth marble floors.

They arrive outside a door with an ornate script announcing it the “Mauve Room.” Candice pulls a folder out of a panel on the wall and opens it to show Stiles. It’s a simple preference sheet with the sub’s brief history and experience with BDSM, his safewords and requests. Stiles makes note of the sub’s strong no on any flames or waxplay as well as humiliation. There’s also a preference noted for “no lilac scents” which stands out to Stiles as being a bit interesting, but he’s not one to judge. He takes his time reading, and is pleased to find that the sub has listed a lot of Stiles’ own favorite things— spanking being one of them.

Candice takes the folder when he’s done and smiles gratefully at him. “It’s been difficult enough getting him to open up about being here and asking for what he wants, and he’s been skittish about approaching people or talking to others he’s interested on his own. I’d suggested the matchmaking program to take that pressure off his shoulders and it’s a huge step for him to try it, so I’m just so glad that he has someone.”

Stiles nods. “He requested a short scene with spanking and a bit of orgasm denial, and from the file and what you’ve told me it looks like he’s coming back to BDSM after quite a bit of time away— it sounded to be me like an unhealthy relationship with his last Dom. I’ll take care. You know me, Candice.”

Candice huffs. “That I do. You have a good night, Stiles.” She hands him a big brass key and steps away.

Stiles waits until her footsteps fade away, and takes a deep breath. He hasn’t taken the responsibility to dom someone in a while, and it sounds like this particular sub will need a lot of attention. He’s kind of curious about some of the things he read in the file, but he’s open to doing a bit of spanking tonight.

He slips the key into the lock and turns it, stepping inside. The room is dimly lit with a soft and warm light, compared to the bright light of the hallway outside. The mauve wallpaper is dark and decorated with swirls, there are a few other tasteful furniture pieces, all done in various purples, and decorative mirrors highlight various areas of the room.

The sub is naked already, waiting patiently and kneeling on a cushion, his back to Stiles. He’s got broad shoulders and a gorgeous silhouette, and Stiles’s heart beats a little faster in interest. He takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the low light and then slowly steps forward.

He freezes.

It’s been ten years since he’s seen Derek Hale, but Stiles would recognize that ass anywhere.

Even before Stiles’ eyes start working properly in the dark, before he can see the outline of that familiar tattoo, he knows without a doubt that it could only be Derek. Even if he’s only seen Derek naked once, on a moonlit night in Mexico when Stiles thought he might die. He hadn’t completely realized what he’d been feeling then, and it wasn’t until later when Stiles and the others emerged from the ruins when he saw the wolf transform back into Derek. There hadn’t been much time for explanation, and Stiles was too exhausted to think much beyond a bemused appreciation for Derek’s bare form.

He hadn’t realized then that it would be goodbye.

Sure, he’s known that Derek was alive. The pack has had intermittent contact with Cora, who they reach out to for any Hale family history or vault questions and supernatural information. Whenever Stiles asked about Derek, Cora would say that he was alright, travelling, wanted to be on his own.

Eventually Stiles had stopped asking.

Stiles likes to say that he hasn’t thought about Derek much in the past decade, but he’d be lying. The man that first made him think about his own sexuality— and everything that they went through together, going from distrust to reluctant allies to almost friends and…

Even now sometimes he wonders if he’d imagined it all; the intense moments between them, Derek’s golden-green eyes shifting into a myriad of colors as Stiles looked into his eyes, the way there had been that whole… possibility between them. It hadn’t mattered at the time; Derek was dating someone, and then Stiles was dating someone, and then Derek was gone.

Stiles takes a deep breath, wondering what he should do. In the matchmaking program it’s up to the participants if they want to be anonymous or not, but usually that’s saved for the end of the scene if they want to exchange information to play again. The beginning is handled by the Dom, based on the sub’s requests.

He can hear Derek breathing, his body shifting slightly as he continues to kneel there. His knees are bowed apart and his ass is high and round, and a part of Stiles is impressed by how well he’s been silently kneeling here. The same part of him wants to call Derek gorgeous and lavish him with praise and then spank that ass until it turns red.

And knowing that _Derek_ also wants that, that he requested it specifically is enough to make Stiles ache with desire.

But Derek wants a Dom; he doesn’t necessarily want _Stiles._

Stiles is contemplating what to say, how to announce himself, when Derek speaks up.

“If you’re wondering whether I still want in knowing who you are, the answer is yes,” Derek says. His voice is low and husky, just like Stiles remembers it.

“I—” Stiles is taken aback for a moment. “Derek, I can’t just—”

“I said I’m fine with it. More than fine, actually.” Derek hasn’t even moved or turned around, and the soft, patient voice is… interesting to Stiles. He thinks about when Derek was trying to be Alpha, how much of that brash, dominant personality was him trying to be something he wasn’t. Knowing Derek is a sub now fits a lot more with the Derek that Stiles was starting to get to know before it all went south.

“It fits, really, you being a Dom,” Derek says, with a note of interest. “So… I’m ready, whenever you’re ready.”

“I’m not,” Stiles blurts out. “Derek, I can’t just start spanking you— I haven’t seen or talked to you in ten years.”

There’s a long pause and finally when Derek speaks again, his voice breaks a little. “All— all right. What do you want to do?” _What do you want_ me _to do_ is unsaid but hangs in the air.

“Can you stand up and turn around? As great as your ass is, I’d rather talk to your face.”

Derek gets up slowly and faces Stiles. He looks good, a bit of salt and pepper in his beard, his eyes shining in the low light. There are some tired lines starting at the corner of his eyes, but he’s as built as he ever was. Stiles can’t even focus on appreciating the view because his thoughts are all over the place— it’s just Derek, being here. It’s overwhelming, he can’t even pinpoint what he wants to say first.

“Can I hug you?” is what comes out of Stiles’ jumbled thoughts first.

Derek tilts his head a little, regarding Stiles, and then opens his arms, almost shyly.

Stiles steps forward and wraps him in a hug, closing his eyes and breathing out in relief. Derek’s arms pull him in close, and rests his head gently on Stiles’. He isn’t how long they stand there, but Stiles concentrates on the feeling of Derek’s arms holding him tight, the way he can feel Derek’s heart beating, the solid weight of his chest against his own. He rubs his hands down Derek’s back, like he’s trying to reaffirm that Derek’s actually here, and then his hands slide down bare skin.

Stiles steps back. There’s a small smile starting on the corner of Derek’s lips, and he’s looking at Stiles in a way that’s almost… fond. It’s kind of surprising, the expression, and to be quite honest it makes Stiles more than a bit nervous.

“Do you want to sit down?”

Derek nods, and lets Stiles guide him towards the large bed that sits in the center of the room. There’s a fluffy throw blanket on top of the duvet and he grabs it and hands it to Derek, who wraps himself in it, almost getting lost in the softness of the thing. It’s kind of adorable, actually.

“Do you want to get dressed?” Stiles glances around but he doesn’t see any clothes, just a generous display of condoms and an actual pump-dispenser filled with lube. Stiles knows from his last matchmaking experiences with the club that there are usually toys and other items that both parties request.

“I put them in that drawer,” Derek says, gesturing at the dresser next to the bed.

Stiles reaches and pulls out the drawer and then shuts it, blushing. That was a very thorough selection of plugs and vibrators. Not Derek’s clothes.

“The bottom one,” Derek says, amused.

Stiles yanks that one open and pulls out a soft henley and a pair of sweatpants, splattered in various colors of paint. He hands them to Derek, who puts them on wordlessly.

Derek’s holding himself differently, Stiles realizes. He looks relaxed, less at war with himself, and he’s… smiling at Stiles. “It’s really good to see you,” Derek says sincerely. “It’s… earlier than I expected to, but it’s taken me awhile to get back in the area.”

“Get back… where in the world have you been? And what do you mean, back? You mean you live here now? In San Francisco? Where _I_ live?” Stiles’ mind is whirling.

“Well, I’ve been all over. I think pretty much every continent, tried a bunch of different trades. Didn’t like Antarctica much, blacksmithing was kind of fun for awhile but I just do art now. Mostly sculpture.” Derek sits down next to him. “Is it okay if I sit here?”

“Yeah, dude, sit wherever you want,” Stiles says.

“Don’t say that,” Derek says, eyes lighting up. “I might want to sit on your lap.”

“I— Derek Hale, you just made a joke.” Stiles is stunned but chuckles all the same, and suddenly that strange tension is gone. Stiles asks about the paint on Derek’s pants, and Derek tells him about his experiments with oils and all about his work. He’s actually done quite well for himself, a few of his pieces have been featured in galleries around the world.

Derek asks Stiles questions too, and is impressed with his work in the SFPD. He apparently also knew a bit of how they’ve handled things on the supernatural end in Beacon Hills, but not so much on the personal side. “Cora’s busy, and I know if I pressed her for details it would seem like…”

“Aw, you do care,” Stiles says.

It’s supposed to be flippant, but Derek just _looks_ at him. “Very much so,” he says softly. “I spent quite some time figuring out what I wanted and how to be… the last two years I’ve been getting closer and closer— Seattle, then Humbolt. Now I’m here. I’ve been trying to work up the courage to go back to Beacon Hills, you might say.”

“You know Scott would take you back with open arms, no questions asked. We’d love to have you,” Stiles says gently. “You’re definitely pack. Even after all these years.”

“Thanks,” Derek says, looking up at him. “I think I— I’ve known that. I’ve talked to Scott, actually, quite a few times.”

Stiles opens his mouth but then Derek shakes his head. “I asked him not to tell you.”

“Why?”

Derek looks down at his lap, fingers twisting together. “You know that feeling when you want to know something, but the possibility, the not knowing— it’s easier to stay there? Because once you know for sure then there’s no going back, and it’s most likely that the answer to the question you want to ask is no, so you just… never ask.”

Stiles can practically feel his heart jump into his throat. “Are you saying you…”

Derek clears his throat. “This isn’t really how I pictured us meeting again, at all. I thought about once I was ready I could randomly run into you in Beacon Hills once I moved back there, see where we could go from there. I don’t think I could let it go if I never took a chance on the possibility of us, you know?”

“Yeah,” Stiles says breathlessly. “I know what you mean. I— when you— and I—” he doesn’t really have the words to describe the strangeness of what he and Derek had. Moving towards friendship, and that never quite settled tension of _more_ that Stiles never got to act on.

Derek rubs the back of his neck, and Stiles notices as he moves that there are thumbholes in his henley sleeves . He looks more self-conscious than he did when he was naked, the way he keeps darting glances over at Stiles, shifting like he’s hyper aware of how close they’re sitting.

“I never thought you’d also be into all this.” Derek gestures at the room around them.

“What, BDSM?” Stiles grins at him. “I’m kind of surprised you are, actually.”

Derek blinks at him, and after a moment of silence, says, “What, no comment about like… a guy like me wanting to be a sub? I was thinking you’d have a ‘big bad wolf’ quip at least.”

Stiles shrugs. “Well, yeah, there’s no person or body type that’s really the typical dom or sub, but I mean in terms of trust, you know. I thought it’d be difficult for you. That’s why I’m surprised.”

Derek doesn’t say anything, and for a moment, Stiles wonders if he’s crossed a line. Then Derek reaches out and takes Stiles’ hand, lacing their fingers together. “Thank you for… for thinking of that. You’re right, in a way. I don’t… I haven’t really trusted anyone in a long time. Here it’s easier, in a way. To trust someone with my body.”

“And what about your heart?” Stiles asks.

“I’m getting there,” Derek says with a small smile.

“I can’t believe you were ready for Candice to just match you with someone— I mean, she’s got impeccable taste, but it could have been any—”

“I trust you,” Derek says.

“Oh.” He really doesn’t know what to say, really. Something flickers in his memory; a blue, blue pool, gleaming with light, and a desperate situation. Even if Stiles had said he hadn’t trusted Derek, he’d still gone after him in the water, pulled him to safety. Derek said he hadn’t trusted him, he’d still tried to fight the kanima off and told Stiles to run. They’ve been in other scrapes, other times where they’ve risked their lives for each other— but Stiles remembers the first time, vividly.

Stiles never thought he knew where he stood with Derek at the end— and even then, he hadn’t realized that it was an end, when Derek left them. Hearing him say it now stirs something inside him, makes him want to leap at the chance now offered.

Suddenly nervous, Stiles trips over the next few words and barely restrains himself from doing a few cheeky finger guns and reverting back to his sixteen-year-old self with a crush. “Good, because I trust _you,_ Derek.” Stiles looks at their interlocked hands and gently starts running his thumb across the back of his palm. “I, ah… did you mean, with your body? Or with—”

Derek kisses him.

It’s a question, first; soft and hopeful, and then Stiles groans into it, every thought, every hope he’s had for Derek comes simmering to the surface and he kissing back without abandon, chasing the taste of Derek on his tongue, pulling Derek closer.

He kisses him like how he’s always wanted to, hungrily demanding more and more. Derek bites at his bottom lip, and then climbs right into Stiles’ lap, straddling him.

“You did say I could sit anywhere,” Derek breathes.

Stiles moans, grabbing Derek’s hips so he can hold him level. Derek goes for another kiss but Stiles leans back a little, raising his eyebrow. Derek responds by rocking his hips forward and back, grinding right on Stiles’ _very_ hard cock.

Derek kisses him, quick and playful. Stiles is a little lightheaded when he pulls back, resting his forehead on Derek’s. “Derek, if you want—”

“Yeah, I want to,” Derek says, voice low with intent. “Everything I requested. Do _you_?”

“Absolutely.” Stiles grins and nudges Derek, scooting out from under him. He stands up, straightening his rumpled suit jacket a little. “Take off your clothes, I wanna see you.” It’s not quite Stiles’ “Dom voice”, but this is _Derek._ He doesn’t want to use the same, distant authoritative voice he uses with subs he barely knows.

Derek stands up, shrugging out of his henley and sweatpants, folding them neatly and placing them on top of the dresser. He waits, looking expectantly at Stiles.

Stiles had been distracted earlier, but now he takes his time, looking his fill. Derek’s always been gorgeous, but Stiles never had an opportunity or invitation to just _look_ at him like this. He appreciates the view now, the bloom of hair on Derek’s chest, soft and curling as it makes it way down past Derek’s navel and ends in a soft thatch between his legs. His cock is long and uncut, thick and dark with arousal.

Derek waits, still, but his eyes never leave Stiles’, and his breathing quickens. Stiles watches the rise and all of his chest, the way Derek’s fingers twitch, but he doesn’t move.

Stiles steps closer, and he can see the way Derek’s pupils dilate as he gets right into his space.

The wall to their right is paneled with floor to ceiling length mirrors, and Stiles watches it with interest, admiring the splay of muscles on Derek’s back, the way it curves and meets the rise of his perfect ass, those thick thighs and muscled calves. He can see his own reflection, still fully clothed in the suit he’d worn to the club.

Derek exhales.

“You are so very good,” Stiles murmurs softly, and he presses his lips to Derek’s.

Derek opens his mouth, moaning softly into the kiss. “I don’t know if I can keep being good if you’re just gonna kiss me like this.”

“Mm, what do you want?”

“You know what I want,” Derek says, his eyes so dark there’s barely a ring of green around his iris.

Stiles takes Derek by the hand and steps back, sitting on the bed and slowly pulling Derek into his lap. Derek groans, relaxing as Stiles arranges him across his thighs. Stiles grabs a pillow and fluffs it, putting it under Derek’s chin, and ever so lightly runs his hand across Derek’s cheeks, cupping them a little.

“Comfortable?”

Derek nods, and then he closes his eyes. Stiles keeps running his hand over Derek’s ass, his thighs, his back, and then comes around to stroke his hair.  “What do you want from me tonight?” Stiles asks, softly.

“I want what you want,” Derek says immediately.

Stiles lifts up his hand and brings it down quickly, and Derek’s asscheek turns a bright lovely shade of pink. Stiles massages it, watching the color fade. “Do I need to repeat the question?”

“I want…” Derek sounds almost shy again. “I want you. To touch me, to spank me, to—” his voice drops to an inaudible whisper.

Stiles spanks him again, the other cheek this time, and again rubs it right after, moving in a soft, slow circle. “To what?”

“To fuck me.”

Stiles’ can’t help himself, he bends down and places a kiss on the back of Derek’s neck. Derek shudders at the touch. “Stiles…”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m getting to it,” he says, righting himself again. There’s so much bare skin on display right now, he’s getting overwhelmed. The way Derek’s cock is rubbing against his own isn’t helping matters either, but Stiles keeps his cool. “How many do you want?”

Derek groans. “I want as many as you want to give me. That felt amazing.”

Stiles lifts his hand and smacks Derek’s ass a little, admiring the way his ass quivers under him. “Maybe another night,” he says. He could take his time to take Derek apart, spank him until he’s red and sobbing for it, begging Stiles for his cock. “How about I give you ten?”

“Just ten?”

“Ten’s good to start,” Stiles says. “One for every year you were gone.”

Derek doesn’t say anything, contemplating, and then Stiles sees him nod.

Stiles raises his hand and brings it down, this time with more force, the slap resonating with a loud _whap._ Derek groans underneath him but other than that doesn’t move, just takes it beautifully. “One,” Derek says.

Stiles grins. He hadn’t even asked Derek to count. “Good,” he says, rubbing Derek’s cheeks. On impulse, he pulls them apart to see Derek’s hole. “God, you’re gorgeous,” Stiles mutters, mostly to himself, but Derek preens at the praise, spreading his legs so Stiles can see even more. His skin darkens a little here, and Stiles reaches out to touch.

He lets out a little exhale of surprise when one finger, and then another slips inside Derek with ease, the muscle already stretched and relaxed, slick with lube. “Derek,” Stiles breathes, and Derek clenches around his fingers eagerly, trying to fuck himself on it.

Stiles withdraws his fingers, giving Derek another hard spank. “Eager, are we? Don’t move, or I might draw this out until you’re begging me for my cock.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with that,” Derek says. “Oh, and that was two.”

Stiles spanks him again, and with his other hand eases two fingers into Derek’s ass, curling them inside. Derek gets spanks number three, four, and five this way, and he barely is able to say six; it comes out as a gasp, Derek’s thighs twitching in Stiles’ lap, his hard cock pressed up against Stiles’ own in sweet delicious friction.

“Stiles,” Derek gasps.

“Mm?” Stiles crooks his fingers a little bit, and enjoys the way Derek shudders. “Still think ten was too few?”

_Whap._

“Six! No, ten… ten… ten is good.”

At seven, Derek’s cheeks are a bright cherry red, and Stiles can see the whites of his knuckles from how hard he’s gripping the sheets. At eight, Derek makes a _hnnng_ noise, trembling as his hips quiver.

Nine, and Stiles has found Derek’s prostate, teasing it into oblivion. Derek gasps and shudders, going still in anticipation of the last slap.

Stiles savors the moment, the hot tight heat of Derek, the way his ass engulfs his fingers, the short and quick desperate breaths Derek is making.

“Please,” Derek begs, raising his hips a little, searching for the touch.

“Mmm, you’re doing so good for me,” Stiles says fondly, withdrawing his fingers.

Derek’s hole clenches down on empty air and Stiles bites his lip, watching.

“Stiles, please, I need you—”

“Need me to what?” Stiles says.

“Give me one more,” Derek says, voice hoarse.

“One more _what?”_

“Spank me,” Derek all but cries out, and Stiles delivers. The tenth slap resonates around the room, and Derek groans, shuddering in pleasure.

Stiles grabs his cheeks, massaging them slowly, rubbing Derek’s skin, and then on impulse bends down and kisses Derek in the small of his back.

“Get on the bed,” Stiles says softly. “And don’t move.”

Derek stands up and turns around; his face is flushed red, and the bloom of color goes all the way down his chest. His heavy cock is dripping already, standing at attention, a deep, flushed red.

Derek is breathing in quick, shallow bursts, his eyes fixated on Stiles’ face as he lays down on the bed, gazing up at Stiles. “Is this alright?”

“Perfect,” Stiles says, climbing on the bed. It’s hot in his clothes and his own cock is straining against his pants, aching to be free, but he can see the way Derek’s eyes trail his body, the way Stiles’ clothed body looks against Derek’s as he climbs up and hovers above Derek, close enough where he can feel the heat radiate off Derek’s body but not quite touching.

Stiles drops an inch so his lips are barely brushing Derek’s.

“Stiles,” Derek groans.

“Be good,” Stiles whispers.

Derek goes still, his eyes tracking Stiles’.

Stiles places a kiss just to the right of Derek’s mouth, focused and slow, and then moves down his jaw, and then mouths down the hollow of his neck. Derek whimpers but doesn’t move, and Stiles works his way down Derek’s chest. He flicks Derek’s nipples, noting with interest Derek’s eyes widening. He can come back to that another time. They’ll have time… so much time to explore and discover one another. For now, Stiles wants to give Derek what he requested.

He settles in between Derek’s legs, dragging his hands down Derek’s bare thighs, spreading them apart at the knees.

“Look at you,” Stiles says, admiringly.

Derek’s cock twitches against his belly, and a drop of precum drops onto his skin, glistening.  “Please,” Derek says.

“Please _what?”_

“Touch me,” Derek says.

Stiles kisses the inside of his thigh.

“More, higher, please,” Derek says.

Stiles drags his tongue up and ever so slightly grazes Derek’s balls.

Derek exhales and Stiles can see it’s taking all he has not to move, his body taut like a wire, just waiting. Stiles takes his time, sucking Derek’s balls into his mouth one at a time, then fondling them in his hand as he moves up and licks a long stripe up Derek’s cock. He swirls his tongue around the head, playing with Derek’s foreskin, dragging it out until Derek is begging again.

“Please, just— Stiles, I can’t take it anymore—”

“Yes you can,” Stiles takes him into his mouth, swallows down his entire length, feeling the weight of him in his throat and just starts suckling at him, up and down in a relentless rhythm.

Without warning Derek bucks his hips into his mouth and starts coming _hard,_ spilling down Stiles’ throat. Stiles swallows it down and wipes his mouth on his jacket sleeve. “And you were being so good,” he sighs. “Did I say you could come?”

“Fuck,” Derek says, guilt written all over his face.

Stiles gets up and smirks at him. “Did it at least feel good?” He murmurs, whorling his tongue around Derek’s earlobe before biting it, teasing.

“Yes,” Derek admits. “You feel— you feel amazing.”

“You’re gonna have to come again for me. This time when I say you can. And I’m not gonna touch your cock this time.” Stiles grins.

Derek nods, eyes widening, a slight smile on his lips.

Stiles unzips and takes his cock out, stroking it for a quick second before bending down for a kiss.

Derek kisses back hungrily, impatient and demanding.

“Tell me what you want,” Stiles breathes, gazing into Derek’s eyes.

“You. This.”

“And?”

“Your cock, damnnit, Stiles, are you gonna fuck me or not?”

Stiles smirks and pushes into Derek with one smooth stroke. He’s nothing but hot, tight heat, slick and ready— probably has been ready before Stiles even stepped in the room, and Stiles imagines it, Derek prepping himself slowly, ready to be fucked tonight by some Dom he’s matched with. Stiles wonders if it was someone else— if that person would have seen Derek’s beautiful ass and just wanted to pound away— but Derek deserves more attention than that. Stiles gives him long, focused strokes, teasing out the most beautiful noises out of him, and works himself up to a rhythm, alternating between quick relentless strokes and slower thrusts.

At some point he forgets, or Derek forgets, because Derek moves again. Stiles doesn’t mind at all, not when Derek’s hands find his and interlace their fingers together, not when Derek reaches up to claim his mouth again.

Derek comes again, his entire body shuddering as he seizes up, his eyes rolled back and jaw slack, and he just makes the softest little plea of “Stiles,” and Stiles just keeps going, fucking him through his orgasm, completely ignoring that he’s getting Derek’s come all over his jacket and shirt as he rubs against Derek. This time Derek’s orgasm lasts for a while, his body shaking with it, hands holding Stiles’ own tight.

Stiles has been edge for so long that it doesn’t take more than Derek whispering, “Yeah, Stiles, c’mon, come inside me,” for Stiles to fall forward, coming with a soft cry. He’s trembling himself, and he can’t look away because Derek’s got his hands on his chin and gazing at him in wonder.

Stiles kisses him on the forehead, and then his nose, and his cheeks, and then Derek kisses him back on the lips, and they just keep touching and kissing, and Stiles doesn’t want to let go. He does eventually ease himself out of Derek and lay there in his arms, Derek curling around him tight. Stiles basks in the moment for a minute, letting Derek spoon him.

“Fuck,” Derek says softly.

“What?” Stiles opens his eyes immediately. “Are you okay?”

“No, that was incredible,” Derek says, awed. “And I still haven’t seen you naked.”

“Oh, yes, that,” Stiles says, chuckling. “Give me a sec.” He sits up and shrugs out of his jacket, tossing it aside, and then unbuttons his shirt.

Derek watches him with hooded eyes, reaching out to run a hand down Stiles’ bare chest. “Not that your suit wasn’t incredibly hot,” he says. “Your ass looked amazing when you were fucking me.”

“Wha— oh, the mirrors,” Stiles says, looking up. “Forgot about those.” He glances around the room and spots the still-open drawer of toys that Derek had selected. “Wow, we didn’t really get to a lot, did we?”

Derek reaches for him and kisses him lazily. “We have time,” he says, pushing Stiles’ pants down.

Once Stiles is naked Derek pulls him back into an embrace, sticky mess and all.

Stiles kind of wants to laugh but Derek’s also incredibly comfortable. “Do you want a blanket?” he asks.

“Nnnn,” Derek mumbles into Stiles’ hair.

“C’mon, give me a sec,” Stiles says, squirming out of his arms. He opens another drawer and finds a clean towel, returning to wipe down Derek. There’s a cupboard by the wall that Stiles pulls out a bottle of water, and notes the snacks in there as well, in case Derek is hungry later.

“Here, drink this,” he says, uncapping the bottle and tipping it to Derek’s lips.

Derek’s smiling at him as he drinks, taking the bottle and downing a generous amount of water. The smile doesn’t stop; it just stretches ear to ear. It looks good on Derek, if albeit very, very new.

“What?” Stiles finally says, taking the bottle away and drinking some water himself.

“Nothing,” Derek says. “Everything, I guess. I just like this. You. Me.”

Stiles settles back on the bed, and Derek wraps his arms around him again.

In the reflection they look happy, contented, like any other blissful post-coital couple cuddled up in bed. There’s a small wistful part of Stiles that wonders if they are this good together, if they could have had this earlier. If they could continue to have this, or if this is a one-off brought by chance because of the club.

“I missed you so fucking much,” Stiles whispers, like he’s telling a secret. He feels vulnerable now— before it was all about missed chances and connection, and what if Derek just wants this— wants a dom, and Stiles was just here, convenient? And it worked out that Derek was attracted to Stiles, but it doesn’t necessarily mean he wants more. Stiles never thought he would want more with anyone, but now, laying in bed with Derek, all these old feeling stirring up again— it’s _all_ he wants.

Derek kisses him, slow and sweet and sincere, and Stiles doesn’t move away when they stop, just waits in this in between moment, looking into Derek’s eyes, memorizing the way he feels, the intensity of Derek’s gaze.

“I missed you too,” Derek says. “I’m sorry it took me so long to come back.”

Stiles kisses his forehead. “I’m just glad you did.”

Derek shifts them a little so Stiles can turn on his side and Derek throws his leg over Stiles’ hip.

It feels safe, comfortable in a way Stiles hasn’t felt in a long time.

Stiles doesn’t even remember falling asleep until he hears the phone ring. It’s an old _brrrriiing brrrriiiing_ noise that definitely not his own cell phone, which is always on vibrate or silent anyways. He jerks up wearily and Derek murmurs, “Stiles,” curling a hand around his hip.

Stiles pauses to smile at the soft, unguarded look on Derek’s face before turning to where there is indeed a phone— a rotary phone, also mauve, to fit with the color scheme.

Oh. Right. Must be Candice or someone from the club checking in on them. The private rooms can be booked overnight, and all of the matchmaking programs are booked overnight on default, but the timeslots are a very hot commodity, and Candice encourages members who have finished their time to check out so the room can be cleaned and used again.

Must be a busy night. Stiles picks up the phone. “‘Lo?”

“Hey, you two doing alright?” Candice asks, sounding extremely amused.

“Yeah, we’re good,” Stiles says, looking over at Derek sleeping away. “More than good.”

Candice laughs. “Well, hope you slept well. Check out is in fifteen minutes, and we’re closing for the day.”

“The _day_ — Candice— what—?”

“It’s almost ten, Stiles.”

Oh. They spent the whole night. And Stiles was asleep— asleep the whole time, no nightmares, no tossing and turning, nothing. He blinks and says goodbye to Candice and hangs up the phone.

Derek stretches, yawning. “Did I hear fifteen minutes?”

“Yeah, we should get dressed.” Stiles pulls out another drawer and finds a clean set of complimentary t-shirts and sleep pants, still wrapped in plastic. He opens one for himself and tosses the other one to Derek. “Souvenir? Or do you want yours?” He gathers the clothes from the floor, picking up Derek’s henley and sweatpants and handing them to him.

Derek gets dressed in his own clothes, and Stiles finds a bag for the remnants of his suit.

They stand up and walk to the door, and Stiles rubs the back of his neck, feeling strangely nervous now that the night is over. He gives Derek a sheepish, nervous smile, and Derek chuckles, breaking the awkward silence.

“This isn’t how I saw our first meeting going,” Derek says, taking Stiles’ hand and squeezing it.

Stiles squeezes back, looking at their joined hands and then back at Derek. “Oh?”

“I thought I’d be asking you out or something.”

“Oh,” Stiles says, feeling a bit lightheaded, still trying to process what Derek’s saying. “You want to date me.”

“Well, I did already ask you to spank me so I figured I might as well say what I really want,” Derek says lightly.

“Good, that’s— that’s good,” Stiles says, blinking.

“Unless you don’t— um, if you want to keep this just as Dom and sub, we could do that,” Derek says.

“No, I don’t— I mean, yes, I want to do that. But I also want to date you, too,” Stiles says, heart pounding nervously.

“We could figure it out together.” Derek’s entire face lights up, and Stiles is just struck again by how gorgeous he is when he’s happy. He just wants to make Derek smile like this always.

Stiles jerks his head forward. “My apartment’s not too far from here. Do you want to join me for breakfast? You’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”

Derek grins, stepping forward and kissing him. “You say that, but I might want to stay forever.”

“Good. You do that,” Stiles says, and he means it.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm on tumblr [here](http://bleep0bleep.tumblr.com) if you want to say hi :)


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